Boy Soldier 1: All Those Shades of Darkness
by Amoveo
Summary: He doesn’t remember much before he was five. He was content with that. But when his surrogate family is murdered before his very eyes, something in Harry snaps, and he becomes… BOY SOLDIER. Book 1 of 3. Dark!Killer!Semi-super!Harry, pairings undecided.


**All Those Shades of Darkness**

**Prologue**

He doesn't remember much before he was five. He was content with that. But when his surrogate family is murdered before his very eyes, something in Harry snaps, and he becomes…

**_Boy Soldier_**

The bullet screamed past, its path a hiss of air that he felt in his mind, missing him by a hair as he dove through the window. The pane shattered as he hit it, fragments of glass raining down on the perfect lawn.

"Get him!" Somebody shouted, automatics chattering away as he rolled over the lawn, the damp grass slowing his movements. He cursed, mentally, once, then got up and ran.

Footsteps.

He was running through the east garden, the guards following somewhere behind. Their handguns were jabbering, crack-crack-crack-crack, but he _knew_ the bullets somehow, knew their paths and speeds and trajectories, and he weaved his way through the exotic plants with more security than perhaps could be believed.

He knew it wouldn't last. He'd come to open space eventually, would reach the fountain at the middle of the garden. He tried not to think about it, focusing instead on making his way through before the guards caught up.

A bullet chipped away at the head of the mermaid statue as he reached the fountain, his breathing somewhat laboured, and he dove sharply to the right, taking cover against the marble foundations as more bullets embedded themselves on the white stone. Fine cracks began to form on the marble, crisscrossing, as the boy frantically searched in the grass, spreading his hands as if to find something hidden. He could hear the guards, coming closer.

He found it.

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The day hadn't started well for Harry Ford.

Scott hadn't been understanding when he had failed to rendezvous at the exact time, and being two minutes late on a job day was bad, Harry knew that. But he had overslept, after tossing and turning on his little bed all of the last night. This was to be his first day at a big job, a real job, not roadside snatches and baiting middle-aged men but real infiltration work. He was ready for this, had been for years - or so he had told himself. But the night had been rainy and cold, and all his doubts and fears that hid behind guns and bravado in the light of day had visited him with infinite patience. What little sleep dawn had offered had been filled with nightmares; old and meaningless flashes of memory, that high-pitched cruel laughter and streaks of brilliant green.

"What're you thinking about now?" Scott demanded, the old man's face wrinkling in apparent disgust. Harry wasn't sure if the disgruntled tone was faked or not, and he knew he wasn't supposed to be. "Keep your mind on the _job_, Ford. Mark is ready to rip your face off if you botch this up, and I'm gonna help him do it. Better you watch yourself."

"You'd have to be disappointed, then, old man," Harry shot back. "'Cause I'm not going to fail."

"You'd better not, that's all I'm sayin'," Scott said. "You've been whining for a job like this for _years_. I'm still not sure if I should've given them the go-ahead, but we need a runt like you to get in and out of this place. You screw this up, and you're going to have a lo-ong appointment with a bag of cement under Thames. I'm not going to put up with people like Mark or Harris mocking me about my teaching, you understand?" He followed with a hard cuff on the back of Harry's head.

They were waiting in the van. The compound was about two hundred metres away, down a gentle slope that ended at the ten-feet high fence. The van was hidden in the high bushes, besides the dusty and empty road that arced downhill thirty metres away and went through the big gate. Lewis was in the driver's seat, Scott waiting with Harry at the back of the van.

It was a sunny day.

He had a job, finally. He felt his pockets again, the metallic tube a familiar thing, a reassurance. One bullet, only one. It would be enough.

He breathed in, deep. Peace. Peace. Death and blood defined the future, but he was calm now. Calm enough to get out of the van, and start walking.

The sun was shining, the dawn a red mask of blood on the wide sky. A bird circled high overhead as he squinted up, maybe an eagle. He sighed, and started walking along the road.

It was going to be a beautiful day.

**A/N:** A drabble, but I plan to continue! It's my first venture into this type of boy-soldier!story, so review please!


End file.
